Tales From Seal Beach: Syrup
by Xazz
Summary: Officially shopping for cold medication was like shopping for baby food, or diapers. Altair scowled at the display of different cold and cough syrups, Desmond in one arm before he picked one up and read the back of the box.


This story takes place between From Day One and The Battery.

* * *

Altair was regretting making his alarm bagpipes as he cracked his eyes open, the alarm blasting from his phone at the volume that could wake the dead. He glared at his phone before reaching out and fumbling with it. Blindly he unlocked the screen and dismissed the alarm before letting his arm drop back down onto the bed. He was _so tired_. He'd stayed up late that night working on a paper for his English class. Technically it was a make up paper since he'd gotten an D on it the first time around. But he didn't _get_ English. Why couldn't he just write in Spanish? Fuck Spanish was easier.

Eventually, after almost ten minutes had passed, he pushed himself up, deciding to skip the shower that morning, and practically fell out of bed. Still in his briefs and nothing else he went to the kitchen, dragging his feet and started up some coffee. He leaned against the counter, mostly naked, dozing, the sharp corner of the counter digging into his hip. He yawned and once there was enough coffee for one cup at least he made himself some, the drip continued though and splattered against the hot plate as he poured himself a cup and then he replaced it back on the hot plate adding sugar and milk to it before going back to his room.

He sat on his bed and opened his laptop on his lap and checked his paper one last time for errors, spelling, grammar, or otherwise. It wasn't that he didn't know what he was talking about, he did, he just had weird language dyslexia. It was only for English though! He could write in Spanish and Arabic just fine, well okay Spanish better then Arabic but he was sloppy with Arabic characters. It happened.

Satisfied it didn't look too gross, as he'd sent it to Mike to look it over for him, and he'd deemed it acceptable as well, he sent the paper to his printer. The machine (which like all printers only worked half the time) chugged to life after a few seconds. Altair sipped his coffee. He needed to get dressed and get his brother dressed and-

He just really wanted to go back to sleep.

He put his laptop down and his coffee on the side table and got dressed, not more awake, and getting more awake as the coffee started to take effect.

Dressed and his paper sitting in the printer tray Altair went to wake Desmond up. The little boy was buried under his robot blanket. "Des, time to wake up," he said gently, holding his coffee on one hand. Desmond didn't wake up, "Hey, squirt, c'mon, up and attem," he shook his little brother.

The four year old whined and pushed Altair's hand away. "No," he whined.

"Yes. Time for school. You ganna leave Shaun and Clay alone today? You know what happens when you let them alone," he said and with a groan Desmond opened his eyes and sat up. He looked awful, more awful then usual when he woke up.

"You have a bad night sleep?" Altair asked and Desmond sniffled as he nodded. He put a hand on his forehead, "Well you aren't feverish. C'mon, I'll make you some OJ with breakfast," and he held his hand out to his brother. Desmond took it and slid off the bed, following Altair out to the living room in his PJs and Altair put him on the couch. Desmond frowned after him before being distracted by reruns of Transformers and Altair went into the kitchen.

He made Desmond his cereal and popped a toaster strudel into the toaster oven and once he was sure Desmond was eating his breakfast he went back to the kitchen and pulled out at least half a dozen oranges and the hand juicer. Altair didn't like bottled orange juice, not after living in Florida for a few months where you could get a huge bag of oranges for cheap and have fresh squeezed just about every morning. "You finish your breakfast?" he called to his brother as he poured the orange juice into his sippy cup.

"Yes," Desmond called back and Altair made sure the lid was on tight before going back to the couch. Desmond was wiping his hand on his nose.

"Ew, no, don't do that," Altair said, darting back into the kitchen for a paper towel and wiping Desmond's hand and nose clean with it. "Here," he handed his brother his sippy cup. "You feeling okay squirt?" he asked, brushing aside some of his bangs, he made a mental note to cut Desmond's hair sometime in the near future.

Desmond sniffed, "Tired," he said, he didn't sound congested though, and he didn't have a fever.

"I'll tell Ms. Lisa to keep you inside today cause of sniffles, kay?" and he tugged on his brother's toes. Desmond nodded. Altair ruffled his hair and then stood up to go pack his back pack and eat his toaster strudel. When he was done he picked Desmond up off the couch, his sippy cup in his hand and carried him back to his room with only slight protest. Desmond let himself be dressed without complaint and Altair started to get worried. He couldn't miss school though, or he didn't want to at any rate.

"Altair," Desmond said, arms around his neck as he walked to the car, backpack over one shoulder. Altair hmmed at him, "Can I go to school with you? I don't wanna go to preschool," and he pressed his face into Altair's neck.

"Sorry buddy," Altair said gently and opened the door. He put Desmond in his car seat and Desmond was _still_ sucking on his orange juice. Usually by now it was gone. "High school is for big kids only."

"I'm a big kid," Desmond insisted.

"I know. But not big enough," he wiped Desmond's nose with some tissues he kept in the back seat. He then got into the front seat, throwing his bag into the passenger side, and drove to Desmond's preschool. Ms. Lisa was there to greet them, as she always was, Ms. Alice and Ms. Cathy.

"Hello Altair," Lisa said, as cheerful as always.

"Hey," he said, bouncing his brother a bit in his arms. Desmond was pressed up against him sleepily. "He's a little sniffly today, could you keep him inside?"

She smiled, "Sure."

"He's not running a fever or anything but… if anything happens, call me, I'll come get him if I have to. I might not be able to answer right away though, I might be in class," he made a face and then looked at Desmond with a bit of concern.

"Of course. We'll take care of him," she said nicely. God damn he loved Lisa, she was just… good. Like there were lots of nice people in the world, but he didn't find many good people, sometimes he swore she seemed to glow, like all her positive energy couldn't be contained. He smiled.

"Thanks Lisa, you are seriously a life saver," and he put Desmond down. "Now be a good boy Desmond, okay?" Desmond nodded and Altair kissed him on the forehead. Lisa smiled at him again and Altair left, he had to get to school himself.

—

Altair didn't see most of his friends till lunch, he had Mike in first period AP Calc, and Cole and Rich both in his English class- where he hesitantly turned in his redone paper, hoping for any grade other then a D, or an F, above a D at least- and then after that he didn't see anyone till lunch.

By lunch he was pretty much checking his phone every few minutes. He was worried though if Lisa hadn't called he supposed that was a good thing. Still. "Altair," he focused on Cole when he said his name. "Damn man, where the hell is your head? I called you like three times."

"Sorry, just preoccupied. What is it?"

"You going to eat that?" he pointed at his fruit cup, his lunch was still untouched on his tray.

"Uh, no, go for it."

"Sweet," and he snatched up the fruit cup, making the grossest noises as he scarfed it down.

"We're thinking of going and seeing a movie after school," Sam said eating salad from his tupperware. Sam's mom always made him and Dean lunch. Lucky bastards. "You in?"

"I have practice," Altair said automatically, but, he did, so it wasn't like it wasn't a weak excuse and their coach wasn't keen on letting guys miss practice, especially not with their first game coming up.

"It'll be after practice, Cas wants to come too."

"Then yeah, sure uh, I might have to bring my brother."

"Sure, bring 'im," Malik said even when Sam sent him a look. Malik sent him another one back. "Kadar's coming but he isn't seeing the same movie as us, he can take Desmond to the one he's going to. He can behave himself right?"

"Better then your brother can," Altair said.

"Well, that was a given," Malik snorted and the table laughed. Kadar wasn't a bad kid, he was just… annoying, and thirteen and they were all four years older then him. So yeah, super annoying sometimes.

Altair suddenly jumped when his phone rang and actually fumbled it. "Damn man," Rich said, "your parents calling you or some shit?"

"Yeah see, that'd be funny, if they were home," Altair said dryly and accepted the call, barely looking at it enough to know it was from the preschool. "Hello? This is Altair Miles."

"Hey, Altair, this is Alice from the daycare."

"Yeah, what's up?" he put his finger in his ear and turned from his friends who were talking about the movie and about catching some waves while Altair and Cas were at practice.

"I just wanted to let you know that Desmond's running a fever," Altair paled. "We have him away from the other kids but you need to come pick him up."

"Of course!" he said. "Yeah, I'll be there as soon as I can."

"We'll see you soon then," and he could imagine Alice's smile.

Altair turned back around and his friends petered out whatever they were talking about. "You okay Altair?" Malik asked him. "You look pale."

It took Altair a few seconds to process what had just happened and what Alice had said. And then, "Ihavetogo," and he was getting to his feet, grabbing his backpack.

"What?" Cole asked, having polished off his fruit cup. "Can I have the rest of your lunch then?"

"Yeah, sure, whatever, I just have to go," he said throwing his bag over his shoulders.

"What's the rush? What's wrong?" Mike asked.

"My brother's sick, I have to go get him from the preschool," Altair said.

"Now?"

"No Mike, at the end of the day, yes now. He's running a fever and I need to go get him and…" he petered out. "Shit I'm ganna miss practice," and he looked around the patio, looking for Cas and Dean who while hung out with them sometimes, had their own group of friends.

"Altair are you su-

"I'll see you guys tomorrow," he didn't even know who he'd talked over as he spotted Cas and Dean sitting against the building with their friends. He headed towards them. "Hey, Cas," he called when he got closer, the older boy looked up at him.

"Hello Altair," he said.

"I need you to tell coach I might not be at practice today."

Castiel blinked. "Why? Is something wrong? You know Henry's an awful catcher compared to you."

"My brother's sick and I don't think I can get a sitter on such short notice. So, I might be there, I probably won't, tell the coach for me?"

"Yeah, sure," Cas said with a nod.

"Thanks Cas, I'll see you later," and then he was going to the office to sign himself out. That was a funny thing about basically being his own parent. He'd talked it over with the VP and he could sign himself out to not get it marked against him, but only if it was a serious thing and if he checked in with her first. There was, of course, nothing that prevented him from just skipping class like everyone else, but Altair took his schooling seriously and he wasn't the sort to skip class unless it was for an important reason. So he checked in with the VP, told her about his brother, and she signed him out.

It was still lunch time at the preschool when he arrived and Lisa was there when he opened the door. "Hey, sorry it took so long," he apologized.

"Not at all. I'm actually surprised you got here so quickly," she said. "I'll go get him," and she went to the back where there was a pile of pillows and his brother sleeping in them. Altair bounced on the balls of his feet anxiously as Lisa woke Desmond up and led him over to Altair. His face was red and flushed and he looked sick. Altair immediately felt bad for making him go to school today.

"Thank you so much," Altair said scooping his baby brother up. Desmond pressed his head to his shoulder a bit contently.

"There had been a bit of a bug going around. Two of our kids are out sick right now, but sniffles go around all the time," Altair nodded, rubbing Desmond's back slightly. "Bring him back when he's better," she smiled kindly.

"Thanks again," he said, she just beamed and nodded and they left.

—

Officially shopping for cold medication was like shopping for baby food, or diapers. Altair scowled at the display of different cold and cough syrups, Desmond in one arm before he picked one up and read the back of the box. It wasn't for children. He selected another, this one for children, but it was for sore throat and cough. Desmond didn't have a cough, he had a fever and a runny nose. He wasn't sure about the sore throat.

"Des," he said and his brother made a noise, he'd heard. "You got a sore throat?" Desmond shook his head against his shoulder. He put down that box too.

Finally he found a cold medication for fever and cough, and another one for runny noses and a sore throat. Why they couldn't be both he didn't know and he hated packaged medication. Why there wasn't one for fever and runny noses was also beyond him. He dropped the box into the basket at his feet and also picked out a box of Emergen-C tablets, as he'd be fighting a cold too if Desmond was sick. Thankfully they both had good immune systems, but still Desmond was breathing on him and just clingy all over him. He didn't doubt he'd get at least something, though he was going to try really hard not to and bought a bottle of Purell and another box of tissues and the stuff he needed to make chicken noodle soup as he'd need something to distract him during the day instead of worrying about his brother.

When they finally got home Altair gave him a bath to help cool him down and then put Desmond to bed. He fell asleep while Altair was carrying him to his room. Then he put away the groceries and called up his normal sitter. She wasn't available. He called the two other people he called when he couldn't get her, and they were both busy. He groaned and tossed his phone onto the counter, rubbing his face. Looks like no practice or movie for him tonight.

Around the time school ended he got a call from Cas about practice. He'd told the coach and while coach wasn't happy he got the picture, but to try to come to practice tomorrow.

He watched some TV and played on his computer a bit, checking on Desmond every hour or so. He was still flushed though and he frowned whenever he saw him like that. Stupidly he tried to remember his mother or father ever taking care of him when he was sick. All he remembered were nannies, and then, when he was old enough, no one at all, and any sick he was it was his own responsibility to get better. Thinking about it made him want to throw something. Fucking parents of the year award!

As it got on he made the soup and when it was close to being done he woke Desmond. "Altear?" he asked sleepily.

"Yeah, just me," and Desmond's arms went around his neck as he picked him up. "Who else would it be?" No really, who else? Not their parents, never them. He was pretty sure his mother didn't even know Desmond was lactose intolerant, and he was really sure their dad didn't. Fuck Desmond didn't even know he had an actual father, he didn't remember, he always forgot, he was so young. 'Dad' was just someone Altair talked about.

He sat Desmond on the couch and bundled him in some blankets and made him drink the cold syrup. He made a funny face when he did and Altair knew Desmond wasn't trying to spit it out or refusing because he was so sick. Altair took a dose of it too, even though it was for kids, but it never hurt. Then he got them both dinner and was glad Desmond could eat a little by himself before Altair had to help him, also wiping his nose. After he'd eaten half his soup he gave Desmond the runny nose stuff and then his little brother had crawled into his lap and gone back to sleep as Altair finished his own dinner and watched reruns of The Glades.

He looked up when someone knocked on his door. That was… weird. He wasn't expecting anyone. He put Desmond on the couch and went to the door, he was surprised when Malik was standing there. "Hey," he said, his surprise obvious. "How'd you get by the guards?"

"I said your last name. You'd be surprised how okay they are with things when you mention William Miles," he gave Altair a half smile. "Anyway, I came to give you this," he held out a few papers. "History, and your chem home and school work, since I figure you forgot to get it before you left."

"Oh, yeah, thanks," he took the papers and then looked at Malik, "You wanna come in?"

"No, no that's cool. Practice just ended and we're all meeting at the theater," Malik said awkwardly.

"Right."

"Uh, so is he okay?"

"Fever, he's doing okay though," Altair shrugged.

"Great," Malik smiled, he had a good smile. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Hopefully," Altair said.

"All right, later," and he left with a wave. "If you aren't at school tomorrow I'll bring you your homework," he added.

"Thanks," Altair called as Malik got into his car. He leaned against the door frame watching Malik pull out of the drive way and down the street. Then he closed the door and went back to his brother. Desmond was still sleeping on the couch. He put him to bed and then went into his own room to work on his homework and the school work he'd missed that day. He powered through the history reading though it left his head hurting afterwards and then started the chem work, which was easier, since it was math, Altair was good at math. As he worked his kept one ear open for Desmond but he slept soundlessly.

He checked on him again before going to bed himself. He still had a fever but he was sleeping well, though he woke him long enough to give him his medication and then let him go back to bed. He brushed his teeth thinking that maybe he could get one of his friends to watch his brother while he went to practice, he'd skip school tomorrow since Desmond wasn't any better. If he, amazingly, got better in the morning he'd go to school. But otherwise.

He went to bed once all his school work was done and after too long staying awake in bed to listen for any noise Desmond made he finally fell asleep.

—

He was roused by the sound of crying. Blindly he reached for his phone, hoping to make it stop whatever dumb noise it was. But it wasn't coming from his phone. He checked the time, it was five am, an hour before he normally got up. Then he realized what he was really hearing. He was hearing _crying_.

He practically fell out of bed, his sheets getting all tangled up in his legs and he almost ate the floor. However he managed to not take a header and practically ran into his brother's room.

A cloud of vomit smell struck him when he opened the door. Oh fuck. He coughed and turned on the light before going into the small bedroom. Desmond was crying, sitting in bed, and there was a puddle of vomit on the floor next to his bed and a bit on his shirt. And Desmond was just _sobbing_.

"Hey," Altair said coming over to him, careful of the throw up.

"Altaiiir," he cried, face a mess of tears and boogers. Altair grabbed some tissues and moped up his brother's face. "I'm sorry," he whimpered.

"Shhh," he cooed and picked his brother up. He was still hot to the touch. Damn. "It's okay Des, it's okay," and he stroked Desmond's back. He took his brother into the bathroom and turned on the tub's tap so the water came out not cold, but not hot either. Desmond was shivering, but his skin was hot and fuck this was a mess. He stripped Desmond down and put him in the tub. "You stay in here, okay? I'm going to go clean up that mess in the bedroom," and never in his life was he more thankful for wood floors then right now. Desmond nodded, not crying anymore at least and he left Desmond in the tub.

First things first though. He needed to on at least a pair of pants because he was _not_ dealing this in his underwear. He pulled on some sweats before going back into Desmond's room. It smelled even worse then he remembered. The vomit wasn't very chunky though, more watery then not but it was still _disgusting_. Still he'd done worse. He'd changed diapers and handled Desmond's throw up as a baby. Still that was usually just milk. Solid food was a whole other level of fucking nasty.

He cleaned the floor and wiped it down a final time with a water and bleach and then went to find his brother in the bathroom. He was laying on his back in the shallow water, eyes lidded, face flushed. He hadn't thrown up again at least. Seeing he was okay he gathered up the PJs and went to put them into the wash, starting a load with just what was in there- not a full load by any sense of the word- before getting a fresh set.

Desmond was like a limp noodle when he picked him up out of the water. A hot limp noodle and he dried his brother off and put him in new PJs. "How do you feel?" he asked.

"Bad," Desmond sniffed.

"Your tummy upset? It hurt?" Desmond shook his head. "Okay," and he stroked Desmond's hair, "Okay," he said again. "Lets go back to bed, huh?"

"I wanna sleep with you," Desmond whimpered, skinny arms tight around his neck.

"Okay," and he took Desmond back to his room. He wasn't going to school that day. It was totally out of the question, so he just turned off his alarm, which was going to go off in twenty minutes anyway, and climbed into bed, taking Desmond with him. He lay on his side and Desmond curled up against him, burrowing into his chest. Altair stayed awake a while longer, until the sun had risen, to be sure he didn't get sick again, and then finally managed to go back to sleep for a few hours.

—

The second day was the worst. Desmond couldn't keep food down, or the medication. He could do broth, and water, but only little bits of it at a time. Altair kept Desmond with him as he worked on last night's homework (he'd purposefully not done it last night in case this happened) and trolled the internet.

Around lunch he called the school to give his excuse about why he wasn't in. Then, he called Mike.

"Wassup?" Mike asked, and he knew his friend had a mouth full of food as he talked.

"Can you watch my brother for me?"

"Now?"

"No, not now you knuckle head," Altair huffed. "I can't miss practice again today, but I can't leave Desmond alone. He's still sick. If I brought him with me could you sit in the bleachers and just watch him? He'll probably be asleep most of the time," and he stroked his fingers through Desmond's hair as his head was buttressed up against his thigh.

"Dude, if he's still sick you should keep him home."

"Then you wanna come here?"

"Uh…" he knew Mike didn't like coming on the base.

"I know it isn't an ideal solution, but I'm just sort of making it up as I go."

"Okay, fine, I'll watch him while you practice. I'm helping the librarian after school though so he'll be up there."

"Good enough. Just so long as someone can keep an eye on him."

"Sure. I'll see you after school," and with a goodbye Altair hung up. He huffed a sigh and looked at his brother with a frown.

—

By the time he was getting ready for practice Desmond's fever had broken. Small miracles! He was awake and Altair let him have some more broth, and he took his medicine with only a pinched face and a little complaints. But he took it. Before they left Altair squeezed some more orange juice and put it in his sippy cup before dressing out for practice and grabbing his ball bag and brother and heading to school.

Mike was waiting for him just outside the locker room typing away on his phone. "Hey," he said cheerfully when he saw Altair and Desmond. "How you feeling Dessy buddy?" he asked sweetly.

Desmond just whined, "His fever broke, but he's still rough. He'll probably go to sleep once you set him down," and he transferred Desmond from his arms to his friends.

"Altair," Desmond whined, reaching for him.

Altair grabbed hold of his little fingered hand, "I'm ganna go to practice Des. Mike's ganna take you to the library while I do that. You like the library," and Desmond nodded slowly. "So be a good boy for him," and the he pulled out the bottle of Purell. He wiped his own hands and then handed it to Mike, "Arm yourself," he said cautionary.

Mike grinned and took the antiseptic. "We'll be okay, right Dessy?" he bounced Desmond, but the little boy just frowned. "See you after practice," Mike added and walked away. Desmond put his head over Mike's shoulder and waved goodbye. Altair waved back and then went into the locker room to finish getting ready.

—

He was a bit suspicious when he found Malik by his locker when he got out of the shower. "Hey," he said.

"Hey," Altair said slowly. "What're you doing here?"

Malik held up a few pieces of papers, "Work, from me, to you," he smirked.

"Oh, thanks," Altair took them, still damp from the shower and looked them over. He looked back up at Malik who suddenly seemed very interested in the ceiling. "Something to do tonight and tomorrow."

"Tomorrow too?" Malik sighed.

"He's really sick," Altair said and grabbed a clean pair of underwear from his bag and pulled them on under the towel around his waist.

"Damn," Malik said and Altair put on deodorant and grabbed his jeans from his bag. "So you're still playing nurse?"

"Yeah," he sighed.

"Well," Malik had that tone about him and Altair looked at him, "you make a good looking nurse," and he had a shit eating grin. Altair shoved him playfully.

"Shut up," Altair grumbled and pulled off his towel to drag on his jeans. He missed Malik looking at him since his back was to him. "I'm surprised you aren't down at the beach by now." Malik didn't answer, "Malik?" he asked, turning his head around as he zipped up.

Malik seemed to start, "Yeah, well, I decided to go help Mike watch the squirt. There's some clubs in the library and he's playing police man for her. Wanted to make sure he was okay."

Altair smiled, "Thanks," and then he pulled on his shirt. "So what're you all doing tonight?" he asked sitting on the bench next to him to pull on his socks and shoes.

"Nothin'," Malik said with a shrug. "Maybe the beach, but it's getting dark soon, might as well just go home…

"Or?" Altair asked, leaning down to tie the laces of his chucks, his shirt riding up a bit as he did so. "Malik?" he turned his head to him, "What is up with you today man? You're wicked distracted."

"Ah, yeah, it's nothing," he waved it away. "But I'm not doing anything and was wondering if you wanted some company watching the sick one?"

"I don't want you to get sick though," Altair said.

"I've lived with little brothers, I'll be fine, got the immune system of an ox," and he thumped his fist to his chest.

Altair laughed, "Whatever you say, man. And sure, you can come over. I'm ganna order pizza cause I don't feel like cooking and Desmond's still on broth and noodles."

"Sweet," and fully dressed Altair stood, grabbing his ball bag. Malik stood with him and they left the locker room. Altair picked Desmond up and they agreed to meet back at Altair's place.

—

Day three was better. Desmond was still sick, but he wasn't fevery and he could keep down real food so it was a big plus. Mike watched Desmond for him again so he could go to practice.

Altair, however, wasn't feeling so awesome. He felt okay, but he was starting to get a runny noise. It was the worst ever and he basically chugged Emergen-C and took cold medication like clock work. He couldn't get sick. He _couldn't. Get. Sick. _He was okay as it got later and Desmond was a lot better as he got his brother ready for bed.

The next day Altair woke up feeling awful. Like he'd just gone five rounds with Dean. He still dragged himself out of bed and into a shower, cold then hot to wake himself up, and then went about his routine. Desmond was well enough to go to school, just a little sniffly, but he was up beat and cheerful so he was over the worst of it.

That was good, cause Altair needed to go back to school, he'd missed two and a half days and he was starting to get seriously anxious and panicky about it. He didn't like to admit it out loud, but he knew he had a bit of a complex, since he was adopted. He always needed to be the best, because if he was, his parents would notice him. But he didn't usually think about it, or bring it up, and it wasn't like his birth parents had wanted to give him up. The Miles' had told him that his birth parents had died in an accident, his adoption records said the same thing. Still, missing two days was having a serious effect on his psyche. He _needed_ to go back to school.

School the next day was rough, but he made it though. His teachers accepted all his late work and he got his paper back. He got a high B on it. Thank god! He was going to let Mike look over his papers from now on. He did his school work, hung out with his friends in class and during lunch and went to baseball practice. When he got home he did his homework, though declined hanging out with his friends. He said he was tired and was going to go to bed early.

He dropped Desmond off at the preschool the next morning and went to class as usual. He let Mike chat his ear off in Calculus as they did work. When there was work to do on the board he and Mike raced to see who could finish it, and do it correctly, the fastest. He was good during English, though didn't join in much of the conversation between Cole and Rich who were busily ignoring the teacher. Altair was trying to pay attention but, like always, he was having trouble focusing.

By third period in Physics Altair had developed a serious headache. He figured it was from English, so ignored it and tried to focus on the numbers. Beautiful, universal, numbers. Then it was AP Spanish and he was unusually quiet during that class. He was one of the only non Mexican kids in the class and also had the best grasp of Spanish, though not Mexican Spanish and he used all forms of words, but otherwise he was one of the top students. His teacher asked if he was okay, he said he was and that he was just hungry.

At lunch he didn't eat, he wasn't hungry and took a nap on his arms instead. It wasn't unusual for one of them to nap during lunch at times, so no one mentioned it. At least until the bell rang. Malik shook him awake. "Hey, Altair, time to go to history, he said cheerfully. Altair blinked at him, he didn't feel like he could move. He was just exhausted. "Altair?" he asked worriedly, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he said and pushed himself up into a sitting position. He felt dizzy though even as he grabbed his backpack.

"Altair," he looked when Mike called him, "Really, are you okay?"

"Fine. Fine. C'mon Malik, we got history," he said. He only made it a step or two before he stumbled and wow he felt really terrible and why was the patio spinning?

"Altair?" someone was saying his name. "Altair," and someone was touching him, putting a hand on his forehead. "Shit! You're boiling," it sounded like Malik, but it also sounded like Sam. He wasn't really sure who was talking, he just felt like he wanted to go home and go to sleep. He had to go to school though, he couldn't miss any more days, or miss practice. It was Friday though maybe… no. No he had to go to class, he'd miss chem, and history. He couldn't miss them. As it was he's only come to school for two days this week, he'd basically missed three.

Someone was helping him to his feet, it sounded like Malik talking as he led Altair off the patio and into a cool, shadowed area. He realized he was in the front office and in the nurse's office. The nurse looked very concerned about everything and let him lay down, but there wasn't much he could do for Altair. They couldn't actually give kids medication without a doctor's note, like for allergy medication or just general prescribed medication. He fell asleep thinking he needed to get up and go to class.

He was being woken a bit later. He didn't feel any better. But he could sit up at least. "Altair?" he blinked at the woman in front of him and for a stupid second he thought it was-

"Mom?" he asked.

She smiled, "No Altair, it's Mary, Sam and Dean's mom."

"Oh," of course not. Why would _his_ mom be here? She was nearly never there when he was sick. He always had someone else to take care of him.

"School's over, you're going to stay with us till you're better," she said gently, the way mom's did. He stared at her and wondered why his mom couldn't be here. Why could she _never_ be here? He swallowed and nodded.

"My car-" he managed.

"Sam's going to drive it home for you," she said patting his arm, now c'mon," and she helped him up. She grabbed his backpack for him and he followed her outside like a duckling following it's mother. An angry, bitter, part of himself that not even a fever could shut up said that his mother would never do this for him, because she didn't want him and that was why she was never there when he needed her. He smashed that part down as best he could, but the feeling of not being wanted persisted as he got into the back seat of Mary's car. He was pretty sure he didn't cry, at least not aloud, but he was still upset and coupled with a fever he knew he had it didn't help his mental state in the slightest.

The Winchester household was big. He never knew what they needed all those rooms for, but he was glad they had it. Mary showed him to one of the guest rooms. He face planted onto the bed, it smelled nice and clean. "Altair," she said and he rolled over onto his side, kicking off his chucks so they dropped down onto the floor. "About your brother-

He was suddenly sitting upright, "I need to go get him," he said, insisted.

"No. No you aren't," Mary said. "You're going to sleep, cause you're running a fever of a hundred and two. One of us will go get Desmond," she promised. "You need to call his preschool though."

He stared at her and then he really did start crying. His head was a mess and he was running a high fever and fuck, Mary was just being _so nice_ to him. Mary was another one of those good people, like Lisa. He was so jealous of Sam and Dean for having such an amazing mom, a mom he'd never have, because one was dead and the other was never there. Never there for him and even less there for Desmond. His sudden tears startled Mary and she tried to calm him down, gently stroking his hair and saying it was all going to be okay. He didn't realize how much he needed someone to tell him that till Mary had.

Once he'd calmed down, or at the very least could actually breathe properly, she called the preschool and he told Lisa that someone else was going to be picking up his brother because he was sick and couldn't do it. She'd just asked who and he told her John Winchester was going to do it after he got out of work. Then he'd hung up and Mary had told him to go to sleep. He did so, barely getting under the covers before falling asleep. He woke up again to someone touching his face. It was Desmond, and Sam was standing a few feet away awkwardly.

"Hey," Altair said and was pretty sure he managed to smile at his little brother.

"You're sick," Desmond said looking at him.

"Yeah," he nodded. "So you need to listen to Ms. Mary and Mr. John, okay?" he asked taking hold of Desmond's hand. Desmond nodded. "Good."

"C'mon Des, your brother needs to get some sleep," Sam said, ruffling his hair. "You want some cold meds?" he asked Altair.

"Yes. It's hard to breathe," cause of his nose. Sam nodded and left with Desmond but came back with a bottle of syrup. Altair sat up enough to shoot the syrup and drink some water and then went back to sleep. A part of him that wasn't bitter said that who cared if his mother wasn't there, or didn't want him, there were others who clearly did. He slept easier on that thought.

-fin-

* * *

/casually rips out their heart and throws it away

fuck that thing, who needs it anyway?


End file.
